The Old Friend From Hell
by darciewritestoo
Summary: An old friend of David's is back in his life and set on making his life hell. Javid, of course!
1. Chapter 1

o O o O o O o O o

**Summary: An old friend of David's is back in his life and set on making his life hell. Javid. **

**Disclaimer: Not mine. Disney's. **

O o O o O o O o

The tradition that had formed was that Jack came home with David after a long day of selling papes on the street. This day was like every other. Jack and David had finished selling and went over to David's place to count up their profits for the day. They had come to the decision that they sold papers well together and even though David was secretly worried about having to give up selling papes when his father's arm healed, he continued to be Jack's "business partner." They were to split their profits for the day at David's place. And that was what they went there to do.

It started out ordinarily. Esther Jacobs, David's mother, invited Jack to dinner though he had started coming to dinner each day. The Jacobs's didn't have much money, but they didn't feel like Jack was imposing. They still had more than he did, and David was thankful that Jack kept coming over. Les loved him, and Sarah, well, Sarah was Sarah. She had kissed him in front of the whole crowd of kid strikers, and she still flirted with him a little, but it was clear that their relationship wasn't going anywhere.

It was a normal day. Jack was eating with the whole Jacobs family. So imagine David's surprise when Esther made a pretty random announcement.

"I ran into Peter and his mother today at the market. They asked about you, David."

David put down his fork that he'd been holding and side-glanced at Jack who was still eating, just a little slower. He couldn't _discuss_ Peter in front of Jack. Because Peter and David had secrets that Jack could never, ever find about. David's family didn't even know.

"That's interesting." David finally responded, knowing he had to.

"I invited them over to dinner tomorrow night." Esther continued.

David looked at her sharply. His mother was being so casual, serving herself some of the bread. Did she not know she had just ruined David's life?

"That's nice, Mama." David answered, again looking at Jack. This time he noticed that Jack had stopped eating completely. Great, now he wanted to know what was going on. And he made that very clear as he and David went into David's bedroom after dinner.

"Hey, Davey, who's Peter?" Jack asked him as they walked to the window. It was another tradition that they spent time out on the balcony before Jack went home for the night.

David frowned. How to explain Peter Clarington? "My friend from school. Well, sort of. Not my friend but my friend at the same time."

Jack chuckled at that as he climbed through the window. David followed behind him watching Jack's figure. The moonlight shone on it, and Jack's shadow moved with him too. David realized he was staring and looked away. He'd caught himself staring more and more lately and he couldn't let himself do that anymore. If Peter saw David staring at Jack, that would be the perfect opportunity for Peter to spill his guts. That couldn't happen. David had put all of that behind him. Being a newsie had allowed him to start new. He was _not_ going to ruin that, and he couldn't let Peter ruin that either.

"He ain't your friend but he's still your friend?" Jack asked, continuing.

"Yeah, we were better friends when we were little kids. We grew apart." David lied, looking up at the sky so that Jack couldn't see that it was a fib.

"Got ya. I had one of those." Jack revealed. David turned to him. It wasn't often Jack spoke about his past. Actually, David knew virtually nothing about Jack's past, except for the fact that Jack's dad was in prison and his mother was dead, and that his name was really Francis Sullivan. Besides that, David knew nothing at all.

"What happened?" David asked him curiously.

"The stuff with my ma and pop, and becomin' a newsie." Jack answered. "But I've got betta friends now anyway." Jack added, putting an arm around David's shoulders and squeezing him tightly. David could feel himself blush, but he was determined to make it stop. He had promised himself that he'd stop touching Jack so much. It made him feel a certain way. A way that he could _not_ feel. A chill washed over David when he realized Peter would recognize this right away if Jack touched him at _all_ the following night. Damn Peter.

o O o O o O o O o

David stalled as long as he could the next evening. He tried to keep Jack out later than normal so that he wouldn't come to dinner, but it didn't work. Jack insisted on accompanying David home anyway, even when David promised that they would divy up the money later, maybe the next day. They could keep what they had in their pockets till then. But for some reason Jack kept insisting. David feared that Jack wanted to _meet_ Peter. And he just couldn't say no, not to Jack.

They walked through the door to David's home, and David's eyes fell on the boy sitting at the kitchen table. Peter Clarington hadn't changed in the couple of months, and suddenly David felt horrible. He had always felt inferior to Peter. They had gone to the same school, but Peter had always had _more_, while David's family barely had enough to keep a roof over their heads. This was evident by Peter's clothes, so new and clean. His hair was slicked back. He had his constant smug look on his face.

David, himself, was dirty. His clothes needed to be washed and there was a dirt smuge on his face that he'd noticed in his reflection earlier. Jack wasn't as dirty, but that was because he wasn't as new as David was. He could easily dodge things while David unknowingly walked into them. A carriage had splashed David with mud earlier while Jack had been selling some papes, and it showed.

"David, your clothes!" David's mother immediately exclaimed.

"It's fine, Mama." David replied. "I'll just change."

"Aren't you going to say hello to Peter?" she asked him.

David turned to Peter, who continued to stare at him smugly. His words were forced. "Hi, Peter. How are you?"

"I'm great, Dave, thank you." Peter replied. "And if you're wondering why my mother isn't here-" David hadn't been. "-It's because I fear she's taken ill. She sends her best wishes."

David nodded and stood there. He knew he should go change his clothes, but what were the odds that Peter would reveal something bad while Jack was in there with him? David instinctively reached out to grab Jack's arm, but Jack didn't see; he completely dodged him and sat at the table, right across from Peter.

He hoped that Peter wouldn't say anything with his whole family there and went into his bedroom to change his clothes.

When he returned, everyone else was sitting at the table, and there was a place for David, right next to Jack.

"So I hear you're a _newsboy_." Peter announced, looking in David's direction. His tone made it clear just what he thought of David's being a newsie. He thought it was disgusting. Then again, Peter had never had to work a day in his life.

"It's how we met Jack!" Les declared. Les was no longer working as a newsie, but he still liked to spend time with Jack and David, and neither of the older boys minded.

"Are you still as... talkative... as you were in class?" Peter asked David, completely ignoring what Les said.

"Spot Conlon called him a Walkin' Mouth." Jack answered for him, grinning. "It's that mouth of his that helped us win the strike, right, Davey?"

"Yeah." David said shortly.

Peter raised an eyebrow. "A Walking Mouth... how appropriate." At that, David blushed, knowing that Peter was thinking of something else. Something from their past that David had wondered about aloud one day. He hoped his classmate would leave right after dinner.

No such luck.

Jack left before Peter did. David, Peter, and Jack stood on the balcony. For awhile, Peter asked Jack a bunch of questions, and Jack only answered a few. Finally, Jack said that he had to take care of something at the lodging house. He and David did their spit-handshake and then Jack climbed down to the street. When Jack was out of earshot, Peter finally spoke. "That handshake was... disgusting."

David realized just how much he had changed. He had thought the spit handshake was disgusting a few months ago. Now it just seemed natural. "It's what newsies do."

Peter turned to him. "So, how's life, David? Are you _happy_ being a newsie? Being surrounded by several boys each day? There are so many to choose from, aren't there?"

David couldn't speak. Peter had that effect on him. If anyone else had been saying these things, David would have argued back. But he couldn't do that now. Not with Peter.

The boy continued. "I must say, though, Jack isn't a bad choice for who's probably available. Do you use your 'Walkin' Mouth' to do some magic on him, or what?"

"It's not like that." David muttered. He couldn't say anything else.

"Isn't it though? I saw how you looked at him throughout dinner. I don't suppose he _knows_, eh? About how you want to have inappropriate relations with him _or _your previous crush. You _do_ remember our teacher, don't you? You remember how you once told me aloud you wanted to have intercourse with him, yes? I wonder what Jack would think about that." At David's silence, Peter continued. "I suppose you don't want Jack to know how much you want him, or wanted our teacher. How I caught you just before you were about to use that magic Mouth on our teacher? Well?"

"No, Jack can't know about the past. Or about whatever you think I feel about him." David answered. He knew what was coming.

"I have some chores I would like done." Peter continued, smirking. He crossed his arms. "And if you them, Jack will never know about this whole mess. Do we have a deal, _Davey_?"

Before he could even think about it, David immediately replied with a "yes."

"Good. I will see you at my house at four PM. Sharp."

With that, Peter went inside to say goodbye to the Jacobs family. David stayed outside on the balcony wondering why Peter chose to do this now. Why did he feel like he had to make David's life hell? All he really knew was that he had to do those chores or else everything would be ruined for him. His new life would be destroyed, and worse, his friendship with Jack and the other newsies.

And he couldn't handle that.


	2. Chapter 2

**New chap! Please R&R! Thank youuu, guys!**

o O o O o O o O o

It was a pretty good day selling papes. David didn't get splashed with mud at all, and he and Jack worked well together. Then again, they always worked well together. Jack had taught David the tricks of the trade and David had taught Jack to tell customers the economic and political benefit of selling papes. They both had something to offer.

"How about that lady over there?" David suggested to Jack, pointing to a middle-aged woman wearing fashionable clothes. No doubt she had enough money to buy a newspaper.

The boys approached her.

"Hi, ma'am. We're selling the World, and we're wondering if you'd like to buy a copy?" David asked her.

She looked from Jack to David and smiled. "Why, a request from two handsome boys like yourselves! Who should I buy a copy from?" she contemplated.

"We sell together, ma'am." Jack told her, flashing one of those flirtatious smiles that he often gave Sarah.

"Well, then, I can't say no to that!" she giggled and reached for her purse.

A moment later, the boys walked away from the woman, proud of their accomplishment. Then they sold papes to a crowd of twenty-somethings looking to chat about important issues concerning New York City.

When David caught sight of a clock, he saw that it was about 3:30 PM. He knew that he had to part ways with Jack, but he wasn't sure how to do it. Jack was going on about what great newsies they were, and David wasn't sure how to stop him. Normally Jack wasn't so chatty, but they did have good conversations.

"Jack." David said suddenly. His tone must have worried Jack, because he stopped speaking immediately. "I have to leave. I have to go somewhere."

"Where's that, Dave?" Jack questioned him, giving him an intense stare, almost _challenging_ David to lie to him. This was going to be difficult.

"I just have to go." David replied.

"Where? When are we gonna split up the money?" Jack asked.

_Oh_. So that was what Jack was so concerned about. The money. Of course. It wasn't like David expected Jack to care about his well-being or anything like that. Well if he only cared about the money, it was no use keeping it a secret. "I'm going to Peter's house."

Jack gave him a sarcastic look. "Why's that, Dave?"

"You don't need to know everything I do." David blurted out.

"No, I don't." Jack said, obviously taken aback by David's statement. "Dave, it's just-"

"Hey, it's Cowboy and David!"

The two turned to see Crutchy, Racetrack, Mush, and Blink approaching them. David tried to give them a smile, but Jack had an angry look on his face. How did Jack manage to be so good-looking even under the most strenuous conditions? David caught himself thinking that and silently scolded himself.

Anyway, there was no way that Jack and David could have the conversation they were having with these four around.

"Hey, how ya doin'?" Crutchy asked them, completely oblivious to the tension between David and Jack.

"We're okay." Jack replied and then turned to David. "Dave was just leavin'."

"Little harsh, Cowboy." Mush stated.

David shook his head. "It's true. I have to go. But I'll see you all later."

As David walked away, he looked over his shoulder a little. Jack was staring at him while the other four boys spoke animatedly. Finally, he forced himself to stare ahead. He felt horrible. If it weren't for Peter, this wouldn't have happened. He wouldn't have alienated Jack. What could Jack possibly be thinking right now? Maybe he thought that David thought he was too good to hang out with the newsies now that his old "friend" was back. Well, whatever his thoughts were, David vowed he would correct him. He hated it whenever he argued with Jack. The last time was when Jack had become a scabber during the strike, and David had been mad at the world when that happened. And when he and Jack had talked it all over... well... it just made him feel better was all. It was, wasn't it? He did love being around Jack. He loved being part of his group, but he especially loved being Jack's partner. Being close to Jack...

David cringed. This was what had caused all of this in the first place. Thoughts that he couldn't force out of his head. Feelings he felt whenever he was around Jack. He didn't want these thoughts or feelings. Worse, his thoughts and feelings about Jack were _more_ intense than they had ever been about his teacher. And that was not allowed. Why was _he_ cursed with this? If he hadn't been, everything would be so simple. Peter wouldn't be a problem, and David could just be friends with Jack without feeling any tension.

Maybe he would grow out of it. But so far, he hadn't. He had even asked God to take away these feelings, but that hadn't worked either. The next best option was repressing them. But how did he feel whenever he saw Jack flirting with Sarah? Jealous. So jealous. Like he wanted to tear Sarah's eyes out... and he did love his sister. Just not when she flirted with Jack.

He contemplated these issues until he reached Peter's home. He hesitated a moment before knocking, and stood there waiting until someone opened the door.

It was Peter who opened the door, of course, smirking. "You were almost late. I was worried I would have to make a trip over to your... what is it called? Selling area?"

"Just tell me the chores." David shot back as he followed Peter.

Peter led David to his bathroom, and immediately David's eye widened. The sight was pretty bad. Open bottles with lotions leaking out, dirt on the floor and walls, even some mold in the bathtub.

"Clean my bathroom and come to my room when you're done." Peter said, handing David a bucket and sponge that he had retrieved.

When Peter left, David scowled behind his back for a moment and then went to work. He couldn't believe he had gotten into this whole mess. As he scrubbed the bathtub, he wondered why he didn't just tell Jack he had had thoughts about boys before. Then reality caught up with him - Jack would do anything but be understanding. He would ridicule him, maybe even stop being friends with him. No, he had to let Peter run his life.

He finished about 45 minutes later, and then found Peter in his room, reading a book. That was the _one_ thing Peter and David had ever agreed on. They both loved books. They used to take trips to bookstores, and that had been fun. Then their friendship had gone sour.

"Finished already?" Peter asked, standing up. "Well, now I have some laundry for you to do."

It was another hour and a half before David actually got to leave, but Peter made sure that David knew to arrive at four again tomorrow.

As he started walking down the street, he heard footsteps and turned around. Jack was about to catch up to him.

"Jack, what are you doing here?" David asked, completely confused. "This isn't where we sell papes."

"I had ta see for myself if you was goin' to that guy's house." Jack said. They began walking together. "You didn't act like _Dave _before. You were bein' defensive. You're usually a loudmouth."

David laughed, though he still felt miserable from the chores he had to do. He had his _own_ work he had to do. It wasn't fair. "Hey, thanks."

"That's a compliment." Jack replied. Suddenly, he looked away from David, acting very interested in the building they were passing.

"You have a funny way of complimenting people." David told him, smiling. At least Jack could cheer him up a little. They walked a ways in silence. David wanted to apologize for before, but that would be hard to explain. Maybe it was better to just not bring it up.

"So, Dave, there's somethin' I have ta tell ya." Jack said, his tone slightly awkward.

"Shoot."

After another moment of silence, Jack said, "Nevamind. Not important. Anyway, what are we gonna do about the money?"

"We're going to my place to do it like we always do." David said with a smile.

o O o O o O o O o O o

The next day, David had to clean Peter's kitchen and wash yet more laundry. This laundry consisted mostly of Peter's longjohns, which really irritated David. As he washed, he ranted in his mind. Who did Peter think he was? He _should _have been with Jack right now, selling papes. But no, instead he was in the Clarington's home, washing underwear. He wondered what gruesome thing he would have to do next and when it would stop.

Finally, he finished with the longjohns and went to go see what he had to do next. Like the previous day, he found Peter in his room. This time, he was sitting at his desk and looked up from whatever he was writing and asked, "Having fun?"

"Not particularly." David shot back.

Peter pretended to look wounded. "That's not what we like to hear, do we, Davey? That kind of attitude won't get you out of my grasp. It may even make it worse. But I do have good news."

Suspiciously, David asked, "What's that?"

"You don't have to do any more chores for me for the rest of the week." Peter told him, half-grinning evilly. He crossed his eyes and leaned back in his chair. "Sit down, David." David immediately moved to sit on Peter's bed, but Peter spoke up. "Nuh uh. On a chair, Davey. I don't want you to get any funny ideas."

David sprang up, suddenly angry. Who did Peter think he was, telling him where to sit? There weren't even any other chairs in Peter's room, so where did he expect David to sit? And it wasn't like David was going to try to tempt Peter over to the bed. _I guess just being focused on Jack Kelly has some perks_, he thought. Not that Peter was that attractive to him; he wasn't. Peter's skin was too pasty for his liking, and he was too... well... small. Plus it didn't help that he always had a sneer on his face. "Jeez, Peter! None of this is fair!"

"Listen to me, Davey." Peter said, completely ignoring David's outburst. "You want to be successful in the business world, don't you? What career do you want to have?"

David was perplexed. What kind of questions were those? "I- I don't know. I was thinking about being a journalist, or going into politics even. Maybe owning a business. Why? Why do you want to know?"

Peter laughed. "Well, you must agree with me when I say that in order to succeed in the business world, your reputation mustn't be sullied, correct? You shouldn't have visible faults, and you certainly should not hang around the wrong people. And most important, you must never, _ever_ let those people who use your services know you're queer."

David felt the color drain from his face. This was never going to stop. Never. He would have to deal with Peter being everywhere, all the time. Even when he grew up, he probably would. "... Um, alright?" he asked, unsure of what to actually say. What _was_ he supposed to say to that? He didn't exactly agree; he knew that having a good reputation was important, but one couldn't help being attracted to someone of the same-sex, right? He certainly didn't _want_ to be queer. He didn't want to _pretend_ to like girls. Why should it matter? And so what if those ideas were radical? They made sense. Ugh, why was this all so confusing?

"Well, there's just one way you can make sure your reputation isn't sullied, Davey." Peter said. He was now playing with the pen he'd been writing with, passing it from hand to hand. "You have to rid yourself of those who will earn you a bad reputation."

"You mean you?" David blurted out. He couldn't help it.

Peter shot him an angry glare, put down the pen, stood up, and stared right at David's face. "No. I mean those street workers you hang around. Those _street rats_. Jack Kelly, and all of those other cretins who ran away from their parents just because they were a little unhappy, all of those kids who _won't_ be successful like you and I will."

"Not all of them ran away-" David began, thinking of Jack and some others he knew.

"Not the point." Peter cut him off. "You will stop hanging around them. All they will do is hold you back from being successful in life."

"Only because you'll spread rumors about me." David told him sharply. "They're just kids. They have their whole lives ahead of them."'

"A life on the street isn't a life." Peter replied calmly. "Anyway, that's the deal. You give those rats the boot, and they won't even _care_ that you like men. What do you say?"

Because it was Peter saying these things, David didn't say anything in response. What could he say? No? Then Peter would just tell everyone the secret. If he said yes, then he would actually have to stop being friends with the newsies. He would probably have to stop _being_ a newsie. Yes, it was bound to happen eventually, when his father's arm healed, but he didn't want to speed up the process.

"Fine." David choked out, knowing that he would regret any decision he made.

o O o O o O o O o

When David got home, Jack was already there. But that was because David had asked him to come by for dinner. He put on a fake smile and greeted his family and Jack, taking a place at the dinner table. He tried to act normal, but caught Jack looking at him curiously a few times. David pretended he didn't notice and acted very interested in his stew.

The hardest part was yet to come.

Their balcony tradition. Would David tell him there? Could he bring himself to it?

They spent a moment on the balcony in silence. David tried to gather his thoughts, while Jack stared out aimlessly into the street. He actually seemed kind of different - maybe nervous or upset. David didn't know. But he wasn't as talkative at dinner.

"It's almost October." David said, trying to make conversation. He didn't want to blurt out the bad news.

"Yeah." Jack said. "Hey, ain't your birthday in October?"

David looked at Jack, amazed that he remembered that. He'd said that _once_ and didn't expect him to remember. "Yeah, the 16th."

"We'll have ta throw a real newsie party then." Jack replied, still staring out at the street. David gulped. How could he just leave the newsies? And Jack? He couldn't. And he wouldn't. But what about Peter's threat? Jack suddenly turned to him, cutting off his thoughts. "Dave, I need ya to come somewhere with me right now. Can ya? Your ma and pa already said it's okay."

"They did?" David asked, staring right back at Jack.

"I asked 'em before ya came home." Jack said. "It's... somethin' I hafta do, and I want you there."

"Is anyone else coming?"

"No." Jack answered. "Well, ya comin'?"

"Yeah, I'll go with you." David told him.

As if he was going to say no.


	3. Chapter 3

**New chap! It's the last official chapter and then the epilogue will be next. **

o O o O o O o O o

David had no clue as to where Jack was leading him, and he didn't ask. He tried to stay in the shadows so that he wouldn't be seen by anyone; if word got back to Peter that he hadn't given Jack the boot yet, he would be in serious trouble. But nonetheless he walked with Jack because he couldn't say no to him. He wanted to help him out with whatever he needed help with. And it kind of made him feel special to know he was the only one Jack wanted to come along. It meant he really did consider him a close friend.

It got to the point where David lost track of where they were going, but Jack seemed to know the way. He didn't seem happy about going wherever they were going; however, he did seem determined.

Finally they reached a run-down apartment building. It really just looked abandoned, but it also didn't look like the greatest, safest, or cleanest place to live either. However, Jack had stopped in front of it and stared at it with a strange look on his face. David stood awkwardly beside him, occasionally glancing to the side to see if the look on Jack's face had changed. It hadn't.

Eventually he had to ask. "Jack, what is this place?"

"I useta live here with my parents." Jack answered. "A few years ago before I got into the newsie stuff."

Surprised, David turned to him. "You lived _here_?" And more surprising, Jack had actually initiated a conversation about his past. And he had shared it with David. He wondered what kind of life Jack had lived there.

"I lived here." Jack confirmed. "It was okay then. It was clean and stuff, but you can probably tell it ain't now."

"When did you leave?" David blurted out.

"When my pops got arrested." Jack answered. "They wanted ta take me away somewheres, but I found somewheres with the other newsies."

"How old were you?"

"Twelve." Jack said. David wondered if twelve-year-old Jack Kelly was as tough as he was now. Maybe living with a father capable of being arrested had made him tough. Or maybe five years on the streets had toughened him up. He wondered how he had become a "cowboy". He wondered about everything now. Not that he hadn't before. "My pops caused a lot of problems around here. It's not a good neighborhood." said Jack. "But I didn't wanna be taken away from what I could always come back to."

David didn't know what to say. Luckily, Jack continued.

"See dat window on the third story, there?" he asked, pointing. David nodded. "That was where we lived."

They stood there for a few more moments before Jack told David they had to go somewhere else. Like before, David followed him and didn't ask questions. He had learned the day he met Jack that if he asked Jack the wrong questions at the wrong times, he wouldn't get real answers. Jack was one of those people he couldn't demand the truth out of; he had to wait until it came to him. That was an entirely new concept for him, and at first he didn't like it. Now, though, David was used to how Jack was, and he didn't mind.

David nearly froze when he realized they were approaching a cemetery. _Oh god_, he thought. Suddenly he knew what they were doing. But still, he followed Jack. He wouldn't make him do this alone if he didn't want to. He walked silently and awkwardly alongside his partner.

Finally they reached a particular gravestone and Jack sat down in the grass in front of it. David wasn't sure what to do, so he sat beside Jack and read the grave. It said "S. Sullivan, 1858 -1892."

Jack finally turned to David. He seemed awkward now too. "I'm gonna talk to her okay? You can stay here."

David nodded. "It's fine."

Jack gave him a small smile and turned back to the gravestone. "Hi ma, it's me. I haven't been here in long time but I couldn't come. It's somethin' I wanna do now. And I missed ya. I have it pretty good right now. I'm a newsie and we won a strike. We was fightin' Pulitzer and Hearst. I can't believe we won neither, but all of the newsies helped and even Medda and this reporter, Denton. We did good. You woulda been proud." He looked at David and then back at the stone. "I brought my friend Dave, ma. He and his family's been real good to me, and Dave's my partner when we sell papes. He's real smart, and he goes to school, but we're equals. You'd like him."

David couldn't help smiling. He liked hearing Jack say these things about him and his family. It almost made him forget Peter's threat.

Jack continued after a few moments of silently staring at the stone. "I dunno when I'll be able ta come here again. May be soon, may be a few years, but I will be back. I miss ya. Next time I'll bring flowers." Then he looked back to David. "Let's go, Dave."

"Alright, Jack." David stood up and held out his hand to the other boy, helping him stand. When he stood, David let his hand linger in Jack's for a little longer than he should have, but he pulled it away. They began to walk away, but Jack didn't walk very far. He sat down on a bench. This was the second time Jack had actually looked kind of defeated. The first time was at the newsie rally during the strike when Snyder knocked him out and arrested him. That night, David had felt defeated too, because he couldn't save Jack. Right now, he just wanted to be there for his friend. He sat down next to him.

"I'm glad you came, Dave." Jack said. "I didn't want anyone else ta come, but I didn't want ta do it alone. I coulda, but it didn't seem right."

"It's okay. I understand." David said. And he really did.

"I won't see my ma again, but sometimes I talk to her." Jack explained. "It's been a long time since the last time, though. I wanted her ta meet you."

_What am I supposed to do now?_ David thought to himself. He couldn't just stop being friends with Jack. "I'm glad I got to meet her."

"It's 'cause you're my _best_ friend." Jack told him, obviously feeling the need to justify the whole thing. It was odd though. Jack never used the term "best friend." All of the newsies were his friends, and that was it, really. But at the same time, David felt lucky to be called that. He really didn't deserve it. If anything, he deserved to be abandoned by Jack. But Jack continued. "I was worried that you thought Peter was betta than the newsies. And me."

"He's not." David confirmed. "I hate the guy." But despite that fact, he was letting the little jerk run his life. He knew he had to tell Jack all about what was going on. He mentally prepared himself for the conversation, and possibly being left alone in a cemetery. If Jack got mad, he would probably run. That was what he usually did. He finally turned to Jack, "Jack, I-"

And in that moment, Jack turned his face and leaned in closer to David, and before he knew what was going on, Jack's lips were on the side of his mouth. It was only for two seconds before Jack realized where his mouth was, and what he was doing. He jumped away and off the bench. "Christ! Why did I do that? I'm so stupid." he smacked himelf on the head and David just watched, unable to register what had just gone on. That had seemed an _awful_ lot like an attempt at a kiss, but misdirected. And Jack was pacing back and forth, yelling at himself. Was it possible that had just happened? "I'm so stupid. Why did I do that?" Jack repeated. He then stopped, looked at David, who hadn't said a word, and took off in the direction they had come out of the cemetery.

David immediately got up and ran after him. He knew where he would find Jack, so it wasn't that difficult. He found him at his mother's grave, sitting where he'd been sitting before. David took a deep breath and sat down next to him.

"Jack, it's okay." David said as he sat down. "What happened, it's okay."

"Ya even know what I did?" Jack asked, turning sharply to him. "I tried ta _kiss_ you."

"I figured that out." David replied, laughing awkardly. "It was a good try. Pretty bad timing. It surprised me."

Jack faced forward again and mumbled, "I bet it did."

"I mean...You should try it again." David managed to say. "And it probably wouldn't be as odd as it was before."

"Try it again?"

"Yeah." David replied, feeling himself redden. He couldn't get the words _I want you to kiss me dammit! _out of his mouth.

So Jack turned again, facing David. "'Kay, here goes nuttin'."

This time, Jack got it right. He leaned in and caught David's lips instead of the side of his mouth. David immediately closed his eyes and let the feeling of being kissed by Jack sink in. It didn't feel wrong at all, and actually it felt right, and pretty damn good. He could taste a little of the smoke, probably from when Jack had a cigarette earlier, but he didn't mind much. The kiss felt too good, that it made _that_ into a good thing too. And just when David had thought he couldn't get enough, Jack's mouth drifted away from David's and moved down his cheek, to his neck. David enjoyed it for a few moments before his guilt caught up with him. He pulled away from Jack, despite the fact that he wanted to stay in that position for a good, long time.

"What's da matta?" Jack asked, offended and confused.

"There's just something I have to tell you." David said.

"So tell me." Jack replied with a softer tone.

David spilled _everything_. He told Jack about his history with Peter, and exactly why he had to do Peter's chores. As Jack listened, his face grew angrier and angrier, his fists curling up. Finally, David told Jack about Peter's most recent order. "But I can't just stop being friends with you or the newsies." David told him. "I said yes originally, mostly to get him to shut up, but I can't deal with just stopping being your friend. Especially not now. He threatened to tell you everything, and he said that I wouldn't be successful in the future. He's going to be there, watching my every move. I'm surprised he hasn't come out of the bushes _here_ or anything. But he's just going to keep making my life miserable. But I don't care. I can give up all that for you, Jack. I want to." Jack got up and started to walk away. David sighed, got up, and ran after him, calling out, "Jack, where are you going?!"

"Ta soak that prissy little goddamn bastard." Jack replied. "We'll see if he can even think afta I'm done wit him."

David caught up to him and stepped in front of him, grabbing Jack's arms, causing Jack to stop walking. "Jack, stop. That's not going to fix anything and you know that."

"It'd fix his face." Jack retorted.

"It'd just delay whatever he has planned." David replied. "It means enough to know that you actually care."

Jack smiled, pleased with himself. "Did I say dat?"

David nodded. "Basically."

"For da record Dave, I do care." Jack said. "Why else would I'a kissed ya?" Jack leaned in, and once again kissed David. David thought that he could really get used to this. Despite what he had told Peter in the past, he had never actually _done_ anything with anyone, so the fact that the first one he kissed was Jack, well, that was something. When Jack pulled away, he said, "I have somethin' to tell ya too, Dave. It can help ya."

"What is it?" David asked. Anything that could help him was welcome, of course.

"I've been thinkin' about Santa Fe." Jack said. "I came back before because somethin' was missin. But I got that wit you. I still wanna go... but I want you ta come wit me."

David stared at Jack. Had he really asked him that? "But, Peter-"

"Won't bother ta follow ya all da way out west." Jack finished. "Dave, I got money. That's somethin' else I wanted ta tell ya. My ma, she left me money and I didn't know till a few days ago. Some big shot lawyer talked to me da other day an took me to da bank and they gave it ta me. And that's what I wanna do wit it - go to Santa Fe. But wit you, or I ain't goin'."

David thought about it. It was probably true. Peter wasn't _so_ obsessed with him that he would follow him to the other side of the country. And Jack actually had money? David wondered how much; it had to be enough to take them to Santa Fe at least. But what about afterwards? He asked Jack that, and when Jack told him the amount, David nearly choked on his own spit. It was enough to start out in Santa Fe too. But what about his folks? His brother and sister? The other newsies? What would they think?

"My family wouldn't let me." David said.

"If ya helped them understand they would." Jack replied confidently. "I'd help ya tell 'em."

Smiling, David took Jack's hand, something he'd been dying to do forever. "If you help, I think I can do it."

"Then let's go." Jack told him.

o O o O o O o O o

Five days later...

o O o O o O o O o

Peter walked into the newsboy lodging house, trying to ignore the fact that it was rundown and slightly smelly. He didn't _want_ to do this, but David really left him no choice. That boy hadn't been home whenever he knocked, and if he was doing that great a job of making himself scarce, than it was obvious he had not followed through on his promise to Peter. But it hardly mattered; Peter was going to tell Jack anyway. Maybe not everyone else in the world, but certainly Jack. After all, if David was after his affections, the newsboy had a right to know. Especially if David was going to try to seduce the newsboy, just like he had tried with their teacher. Peter wrinkled his nose at the memory of seeing his teacher sitting on his desk with David standing in front of him, leaning in as if to kiss him. Disgusting. Men did not belong together.

He found the front desk, and behind it stood an old man, who peered at him. Peter knew the look. What in the world was _he_ doing here? It wasn't often a boy from the _right_ side of the tracks showed up at this dump.

"You a newsie? Need a bed?" the old man asked, raising an eyebrow.

"Ew. No." Peter replied. "I'm looking for a newsboy."

The old man looked even more surprised. "Oh, you are, are you?"

"Not in _that _way." Peter told told the old man. "I have a message for one of the newsboys."

"Which one?"

"Jack Kelly."

The man laughed. "Sorry, kid. You missed him."

"I can wait." Peter insisted.

"What Kloppman means is dat Cowboy ain't in New Yoik."

Peter turned around and saw a boy smoking a cigar standing beside another boy with an eyepach and another with curly hair - at least he didn't have any outward obscenities. But really, a kid smoking a cigar? What was this world coming to? "What do you mean he's not in New York?"

"Just what I said, he ain't here." the boy with the cigar said. "He and our friend Dave took off a few days ago."

_Drat!_ David and Jack were both gone? Where was the fun in that? What was the point in telling anyone that David was queer if David wasn't here to deal with the consequences? Jack was the one he wanted to tell anyway, and this newsboy was saying those two _ran away together_? Peter wondered if Jack _knew_ David's secret. But what was the point in being here now?

"Where did he go?"

The boy with the eyepatch laughed. "Across da country. Good luck tryin' ta find 'em."

Well, he wasn't about to do _that_. Why bother? He gave the newsboys one last look before turning and heading out the door.

Behind him, he heard, "Dat was him?" Another one of the boys said, "Yeah, dat kid Jack said ta keep an eye on." And yet another said, "He won't know what hit 'em if he does anythin'."

Curling up his fists, Peter continued walking until he reached his own home. Who knew David would ever find a way out?

But he had.

And now Peter had no reason to care.

He went to his dresser and took out his list of names. He scratched David's off of the list. Who was next? John? Oh yes, John. He was guilty about having sexual dreams about the various adults he knew in his life, both male and female. His past was not quite as entertaining as David's, but he would have to do.


	4. Epilogue

**Here is the epilogue to this story! It takes place five months after the previous chapter. **

**I hope you enjoyed the story :)**

o O o O o O o O o

"I just wanna tell you know, we're publishin' your article."

David sat up straight in the chair. Had he heard right? He hadn't been able to get many of his articles published in the town paper since he and Jack had come to Santa Fe. He was initially hired as an editor, but David also wanted to report. So far, most of his articles had been rejected for being too "East Coast" and uptight. Since writers for _this_ Santa Fe newspaper got paid by the article, David hadn't been making much money lately.

"Thank you." David said.

Mr. Pierce smiled warmly at the teenager and handed David a check. "Well, it seems you've lost yer uptight way of writin'. That's what we were waitin' for from you. We knew you were good at writin'; we just knew you could be better. And this is it."

As David left the newspaper office, he started whistling. Some of the townfolk waved at him as he past them, and he waved back. He liked it here. He was more free, safer, and could do whatever he wanted. He lived how he wanted, and although David and Jack said they were friends who lived together, no one judged them. They figured that someday they would move from their apartment when they saved up enough to move even more into the country, maybe a few miles from town.

Santa Fe was definitely a lot different than New York City, but it was a good kind of different. Everything was slower; everyone was more patient. Best of all, Jack and David weren't at the mercy of a corporate captian.

When the two arrived in Santa Fe and went looking for jobs, David had found the job at the small newspaper, and Jack found a job at a diner. It was a good job for him - he was personable and the manager and townspeople liked that. Now that David had loosened up his writing a little, he and Jack both enjoyed their jobs.

No one knew about him and Jack. As far as everyone else in town was concerned, they were looking for "gals." But really, they were happy living on their own. Being able to kiss Jack every morning and night (not to mention do other stuff with him) was amazing.

Despite how happy he was, David missed his family and the other newsies. His family wrote letters to the boys a lot. David's father's arm had healed and he had gone back to work; however, he had found an even better job at another factory that treated its workers and product better. They actually promised Meyer that they wouldn't fire him if he got injured. David's dad was lucky to be there.

When he walked through the door of their small apartment, David found Jack, sitting at the table, leafing through the mail. David joined him at the table. "Anything good?"

Jack handed him an envelope. "It's a letta from da newsies."

David was kind of surprised. Not all of the newsies could write and read, so he wondered how in the world they had gotten a letter written up. But when he opened the envelope and took out the piece of paper, it was clear. The newsies had taken turns writing words and a few sentences. Between bits and pieces of writing he got the message of the letter.

"Peter was put in an insane asylum!" David exclaimed, unable to hold back a smile.

"Good! Dat bastard deserves it." Jack said, grinning too. "Good thing I didn't soak 'im! I wouldnt'a wanted 'im to pass up dis chance of a lifetime!"

Laughing, David handed the letter to Jack, who read it over. "Ya could go back to New Yoik if ya wanted since he's not there anymore." Jack said as he read the letter. "Nothin' would be keepin' you here. I know ya miss your family."

True. He _did _miss his family. And he could go back if he wanted. But as he looked at Jack, who looked at him curiously, he knew that he was right where he belonged. He stood up, making sure all the windows were covered, walked over to Jack, and planted a kiss on his lips. "I don't think so. I've got a good thing going here. I've got a good job. My new article's actually getting published." At Jack's that's-nice-but-what-about-me smile, he continued. "And, I have a great guy who stuck by me despite how bad things were when we were in New York. And I kind of want to show him my appreciation."

Jack needed no more hints. He stood from his place at the table, and took the hand David held out to him. Together, they walked to the bedroom, shutting the door behind them.


End file.
